Lalita

Slice of Life '25 2 Minutes

I have this image of my grandma coming to my room, yanking the curtains, and muttering, “Let God into the room!” The way she said it, along with a not-so-hard-to-read facial expression, translated into: don’t be lazy on a weekend—a weekend!

I’m not sure if that’s a real memory or just a made-up clip based on a collection of actions that made her who she was: stern, judgemental, and too worried about what others might think.

Others? It’s just me in my bedroom.

Like that one, I have many others. Memories of her imposition, her strong will, and how much power she represented. Her opinions were loud and scathing, spread freely among those around her. I know she felt virtuous, and as a little girl, I listened closely.

The thing about memories is that, if you’re lucky, you can choose the ones you want to reminisce on. The same grandma who spoke so harshly about others, also gave the most caring hugs and made me feel loved. She spent hours creating cute outfits for me when I was little, and when I became a teacher, she fought her aging precision measuring my waist to create a Cookie Monster skirt I needed for Halloween.

“Lalita, it doesn’t matter if it’s not even!” I would tell her.

“No mija, a ver…” She would shake her head no, giggle a little, and continue measuring until she felt she got it right.

Elena, you were meant to be born on her birthday, and for some reason, you bear her resemblance, making me think of her a lot, not as a granddaughter but as a woman with many, many questions about her life and her own parenting.

I wonder what questions you’ll have about my mother. I hope you get to ask her anything and everything.

It’s interesting to think about the chain of events that link generations. Some believe that one’s failed marriage can be reflected in their child’s repeated situation. All around me are women with this belief. I don’t have a similar or different opinion; I just find myself thinking of decisions women in my life were forced to make to better their lives and the lives of their daughters and how those decisions shaped who they became with the passing of time.

I could never judge those decisions that led me here. Kudos to them for trying, no matter the odds.

Gianna’s post made me think of her, and I was reminded of all the times her sweet image and tender smile rushed back to me, whether I’m being lazy on the weekend or I wear the few clothes she made (and still fit me).

I think of her when I pull the blinds in the morning, when I open my drawer and see her handwritten prayer from 2014, and when I brush your golden curls. I believe she was there the day you were born.

Let God into the room.

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Published by Ana Valentina Patton

I aim to be a learner, not a knower. If I forget, please remind me.

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14 thoughts on “Lalita”

  1. Your reflection today let me think about my own complex grandmother. I love your generosity of spirit as you remember her and the way you bring her strength forward to your daughter. I don’t have daughters, but I do hope that my grandmother lives on a little and that my boys understand a little of the complexity of the choices their female forbears had to make.

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  2. This was so beautifully written, Ana. I loved what you said about choosing “the ones you want to reminisce on” when it comes to memories. The duality of people and the different versions of them we experience is such an interesting thought. Perspective and active choice really do allow us to focus on the meaningful moments and let go of the hurt.

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  3. I love reading your posts. This one was great, it made me think of both of my grandmothers, that I’m lucky to still have with me, but all the way in Argentina. I miss them.
    I love reading about Elena and what you write for her. It’s beautiful

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  5. A beautiful tribute. I grew up without grandparents, so I feel so blessed that my childrem have been able to experience this special relationship.

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  6. This is such a lovely post, celebrating the complexity of Lalita and infused with your love for her. How wonderful that Elena was born on her birthday and that you have sweet memories to savor and share. I often wish my own grandmothers were still around so that I could interact with them as adults. I’d love to know more about the choices that shaped them–one having to stop teaching to marry, the other having to leave college because of the Depression… I wish I’d been more curious and attentive when I was younger! (PS–I was hoping for a photo of the Cookie Monster skirt!)

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  11. Thank you for this powerful post about BOTH the power of words to live long after we are no longer here but also the way grandmothers shape us into the people we become.

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  12. Your post could be an exemplar for words and connotations and how they relate to what we remember about a person. Stern and judgmental are different from strong and matriarchal! Loved the connections between the generations, as well as the wonders.

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  14. “I just find myself thinking of decisions women in my life were forced to make to better their lives and the lives of their daughters and how those decisions shaped who they became with the passing of time.”

    Beautiful.

    I am glad your Lalita lives on in your memories so vividly and in Elena. These generations of strong women. ❤️

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